"Stand back. I'm opening this door."
The command was cold and detached. Chen Xiaoming no longer spared a glance for the Dragon Emperor beneath him. He hadn't come for this Dragon Emperor today. His goal was the Ancient God's Mansion—specifically, the embryonic Emperor-grade pill and the inheritance sealed within.
"You… have the Ancient Jade?"
The Dragon Emperor's voice came in a rush, tinged with surprise and hope. The Mansion of the Tuo She Ancient God could only be unlocked with the Ancient God's Jade. Once opened, he'd be free.
After tens of thousands of years in this lightless prison, freedom was finally within reach.
"Who told you that every door needs a key?"
Chen Xiaoming shot the Dragon Emperor of the Ancient Void Dragon Clan a sideways glance, a trace of disdain flickering in his eyes. Just a Dou God's mansion door? Even if a Dou God stood before me, so what?
"Er…"
The Dragon Emperor's earlier joy froze on his face. Had he been played? This was Tuo She Ancient God's mansion—they were talking about the legacy of a Dou God. Did this human really think he could force it open?
Hadn't he himself tried that—and ended up imprisoned for eternity?
"Sigh. Truly pitiful."
Shaking his head, Chen Xiaoming decided that such a pitiful creature might deserve a little enlightenment.
"You understand nothing of true power."
With that calm declaration, Chen Xiaoming closed his eyes. The power of his restored bloodline surged forth.
Five years. Five years spent doing nothing but refining his breath and comprehending the essence of his bloodline. The strength he now wielded was far beyond what it had once been.
The intermediate origin force of his bloodline—he had nearly mastered half of it, a speed and depth of comprehension that surpassed anything before.
Boom.
A brilliant silver radiance erupted. A force utterly distinct from Dou Qi awakened within his body. The stunned Dragon Emperor beneath him instantly felt it—a terrifying pressure descended like a divine judgment. Even the bloodline within his own ancient dragon body began to tremble uncontrollably.
Even more inconceivable: fear began to stir from the very depths of his bloodline.
Impossible!
His body was pinned by the pressure. The Dragon Emperor stared in shock and horror. A human? And yet… how could a human's bloodline suppress mine?
He was, after all, the sovereign of the Ancient Void Dragons.
His bloodline—if not supreme—was certainly among the most exalted of all Magical Beasts. Among his kind, none dared claim superiority.
How could there exist a human whose bloodline exerted dominion over his?
But that deep, primal dread—it was undeniable. A fear born only when standing before one incomparably higher in the hierarchy of life.
"Open."
Chen Xiaoming spoke again, softly.
The space behind him rippled.
A colossal phantom took form.
The ancient Dragon Emperor's pupils shrank sharply. At the very moment the apparition appeared, his bloodline responded—not with resistance, but submission.
Damn it… what the hell is that thing!?
Humiliation. Crushing, suffocating humiliation. He was the Dragon Emperor of the Ancient Void Clan, and yet… his bloodline was groveling before another.
His violet-gold draconic eyes widened, locking onto the phantom. Silver light and gray mists billowed around a single, swaying branch—mere tendrils descending, glowing with an eternal radiance.
The world itself seemed incapable of containing it.
This was not just power.
This was primordial dominion—the essence of a forgotten age.
Chen Xiaoming turned his head slightly and looked back at the phantom. Feeling the surging power within, a faint smile played across his lips.
"Condense."
Another word fell softly from his lips.
The silver light in his body surged, converging rapidly into his right hand. In mere moments, it had coalesced into a sphere of dazzling silver energy.
Under his focused control, the sphere began to morph. Space itself began to crack beneath the strain—black fissures tore through the void.
Within seconds, the silver mass had formed into a long spear.
Chen Xiaoming grasped it.
It felt not like a weapon, but like an extension of his own body.
He smiled, satisfied.
This was the power of his bloodline—not Dou Qi, but something far purer. This was a weapon born from his very essence. And it fit his hand far better than anything formed from Dou Qi.
Whoosh.
In a flash, Chen Xiaoming appeared before the massive stone doors of the Ancient God's Mansion. The gate loomed tens of thousands of feet tall, pulsing with a terrifying aura.
He studied it for a moment, then glanced at the spear in his hand.
And smiled.
"Break."
His body moved, the silver brilliance within him surging into the spear.
Behind him, the immense phantom quivered. The trailing willow-like tendrils swayed, unleashing waves of primordial might, which flowed into the spear.
Instantly, its aura intensified. A frigid, deadly gleam gathered at the tip. With a flash, a black void tore open at the point of the spear, devouring all energy in its path.
Gulp...
From below, the Dragon Emperor watched, stunned.
Chen Xiaoming was actually doing it. Was he really going to strike the mansion gate?
That aura. That bloodline. That silver spear…
If his senses weren't deceiving him, the weapon had been forged purely from bloodline power.
Even at his peak—Nine-Star Dou Saint—the Dragon Emperor could feel mortal danger from it.
Something that could threaten him... and suppress his bloodline…
As impossible as it seemed, one conclusion pressed on his mind—
He… might be a Dou God.
As that realization set in, Chen Xiaoming's eyes sharpened.
His aura flared.
And he struck.
The silver spear lanced out, piercing the space before the mansion's gate.
Bang.
A low, muffled sound echoed. Chen Xiaoming's figure retreated calmly, spear in hand, his expression unchanged.
The Dragon Emperor's gaze snapped to the gate.
It stood unbroken.
Not a scratch.
He blinked.
Chen Xiaoming stood quietly, unmoved.
The Dragon Emperor narrowed his eyes, violet light flashing, scanning the gate again.
Crack… crack… crack…
Clear, sharp sounds rang out.
Cracks began to appear where the spear had struck. Silver light poured from within, spreading like wildfire across the massive gate.
In mere moments, the entire structure—miles high—was covered in glowing fractures.
Chen Xiaoming stood motionless.
Then he pointed.
A faint ripple shot forward.
Boom!
The entire gate exploded.
Silver light surged.
And when it faded, the gate to the Ancient God's Mansion… had vanished without a trace.
"As I thought," Chen Xiaoming said, his voice light and casual.
"Regaining my strength… really is the best feeling."
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